I saw your face change into
how I recognize you today.
Where technology is your first hand
it is my second.
I could always match the capital with its lower-
cased partner.
Sometimes, I’d confuse M and m
with N and n. Now I only confuse east and west
and I think I might’ve learned them wrong.
Because we can’t say love yet
we also can’t say hon or honey.
But, babe is safe and we both use it too much.
Now that you’re gone the offers have been rolling in.
I’ve been respectfully refusing, because I’m waiting for you
to come back so
we can fill in the blanks and make stupid meals together.

I worked with a close friend, Sandi Petrie, who is a fiber artist working out of Cleveland, LA, and now Delaware. I wrote this poem and she drew the image based off it. They were accepted into the Queerocracy Symposium zine at the New School in New York City.